Mr. Bowie turns eight today. I don’t remember much about my eighth birthday or any of my birthdays of the past, really. But hey, it’s not about me, it’s about our little big hero, Mr. Bowie.
My Dad took his bike, went for a ride and surprised us with a visit. We had espressos and chocolate. Happy Birthday Mr. Bowie! Catnip and treats for the furry ones.
Enjoy this beautiful day, my friends, wherever you are. Peace, love and understanding.
Life goes on… and on. A week after my sister passed away, my father turned 92. It was a very strange day. We had a small celebration with chocolates, cookies and coffee. It all happened in a serene and depressed atmosphere.
A few days later some local officials, dressed in traditional folkloric costumes, payed tribute to my Dad because he’s one of the oldest inhabitants of the village. This is a regular annual tradition. Many happy returns!
Thank you so very much for your help, kindness, compassion and sympathy at one of the most difficult times of our lives.
We had something to celebrate today. Dad is one of the oldest inhabitants of the village. Some local officials, dressed in traditional folkloric costumes, payed tribute to him this Sunday afternoon. This is a regular annual tradition. Many happy returns!
Next Wednesday, my Dad turns 90. There will be a Birthday Party with Birthday cake, Belgian soft-centre pralines, and other delicious stuff!
Frederik, the oldest great-grandchild in my family, asked if he could try out the special headgear of the local Prince. I think Mr. Bowie would love the feather on top of it…